The rugged trees are mingling Their flowery sprays in love; The ivy climbs the laurel To clasp the boughs above.

And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, And the year smiles as it draws near its death.

Wild was the day; the wintry sea Moaned sadly on New England's strand, When first the thoughtful and the free, Our fathers, trod the desert land.

These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end.

We like rather to dream of a body of young men as a live thing, as a tree where all the branches are nourished by a single sap, and where each part is meaningl…

When I listen to love, I am listening to my true nature. When I express love, I am expressing my true nature. All of us love. All of us do it more and more per…

Women and men (both little and small) cared for anyone not at all they sowed their isn't they reaped their same sun moon stars rain: all by all and deep by dee…